


dismantle the sun

by helsinkibaby



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, F/M, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6514870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carson finds out about Janet's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dismantle the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Theme : free for all  
> Any Stargate, any+/any, feel free to change pronouns
> 
> He was my North, my South, my East and West,  
> My working week and my Sunday rest,  
> My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;  
> I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
> 
> The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;  
> Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;  
> Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.  
> For nothing now can ever come to any good.
> 
> \--W.H. Auden

It was a perfectly normal, if quiet, day in the SGC when it happened and later on, Carson would think that that should have been his first clue. The calm before the storm and all that. He was a little nervy, truth be told, because Janet was off world and he always got nervous when she was. Call him old fashioned, call him sexist and lord knows, Janet had accused him of both from time to time, and only sometimes in jest, but he liked having her in the SGC, liked knowing she was safe. 

Besides, she was on P3X-666 and while he didn't put much stock in the supernatural as a rule - that was Granny Beckett's thing, not his - the appellation didn't exactly inspire confidence. 

So when he was checking medical supplies in one of the store rooms - a boring job to be sure, but necessary - when a cold, shivery feeling washed over him from head to toe, when it felt like a vice clamped around his chest, robbing his breath, leaving him weak and leaning against the shelf for support, he told himself that it was nothing. A moment of weakness brought on by too much work, not enough sleep, not enough to eat or drink. Nothing more than that and he staunchly tried not to think of Granny Beckett's pronouncements of spirits walking over her grave. 

He tried. 

But when Jack O'Neill walked into sickbay, face pale and eyes red, looking more shook than he'd ever seen Jack look, the older man didn't have to say a word. 

Because Carson knew. 

Just like, in that moment, he knew nothing in his life would ever be the same again. 


End file.
